#;; like this would be the turning point for her to actually use it since the softer Alear managed to regain control when it wasn't planned?

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - part V

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

playlist, part I, part II, part III, part IV

Warnings: toxic!p, language, sexual themes, themes of cheating etc

Wordcount: 5.8k

A/N: WE ARE BACK! no smut in this one sorry ik you love it but i think this a bit of a turning point in the fic :) again pls send me feedback and live reactions! it's the best part of writing this series ANYWAY GO READ ty for everything you guys do

-

We’re both sweaty, my skin sticking to hers as we try and catch our breaths - that fourth round had really done us in. If it hadn’t been for me, I’m sure the blonde next to me would’ve gone for fifth. That damn athlete’s stamina. This had become a daily routine the past week, ever since our sleepover.

“You stayin’ over, right?” Paige asks, hand in my hair brushing through it gently. I consider it, the idea of falling asleep in her arms, getting to wake up being held tight by her warming me, but in the back of my mind there’s something gnawing at me. I’m pretty sure I had something to do tonight. Oh right. Jay. Shit.

Clumsily climbing out of bed and pulling on my clothes with urgency makes Paige let out a confused chuckle as she sits up, watching me closely. “Damn ma, chill, you can go if you want.”

“No, I just-” I mumble through my red knitted sweater, pulling it over my head. “I was supposed to see Jay.” In fact Jay had insisted we celebrate because it’s been exactly a month since we started seeing each other. I didn’t really get it. Maybe if we were actually dating, and even then just after one month felt… Excessive to me. But she had insisted.

Paige goes uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, a hint of something unfamiliar on her face as I pull up my flared yoga pants. I check myself in the mirror, mascara smudged over undereyes, lipstick all over my face and my perfectly styled blowout matted at the back - I looked completely fucked out. The hickey on my collarbone, and the smell of Paige’s cologne on my clothes didn’t help my case.

“Paigeee!” I groan at the reflection staring back at me, scrunching my face as I force my long brown locks into a high ponytail, but the blonde sitting behind me on her purple comforter remains quiet, eyes low and face stoic. It’s so unlike her I turn around, tightening my pony as I watch her concerned. “P?”

She finally lifts her gaze from the corner of her room to meet my face, smiling weakly. I could tell something was off, and it made my stomach stir. Before I can ask Paige leans her head against the wall behind her, looking to the ceiling and taking a deep breath.

“You sure you can’t stay?”

It sounds vulnerable, almost pleading if I didn’t know better. For a moment I waver, but instead I brush it off, turning back to the mirror and fixing my makeup while Paige watches on the bed.

“Nah, she wanted to celebrate our one month… Something,” I murmur, reapplying the maroon lipstick.

A deep sigh from Paige fills the room as she fidgets with her hands before bringing them up to her jaw, rubbing it.

“Why are you with her?”

“Huh?” I ask, turning to her but she won’t meet my gaze.

“You heard me, why are you with her?”

I’m baffled, astonished by the question. A blush rising to my cheeks I suddenly feel defensive for some reason - mostly because there was no good reason. Jay was nice enough and I liked her company. Sometimes. But at least I knew for certain she would never do what Paige had done to me in the past. Never.

“Because she’s good to me! How’s that any of your business anyway?” my voice rises as I ask, my arms crossing but Paige is quick to get up and walk over to me, pulling me into a hug.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you right,” she quickly lets out, rubbing up and down my back and the anger immediately subsides. “Stupid question, sorry.” She sounds almost scared. I had never heard her sound like that. Trying to understand what it meant made my mind turn to mush so I focus on the way she kisses my forehead and holds my face, our eyes meeting.

“Thursday then? After my game?” Paige suggests, now kissing my neck, making me forget all about who was waiting for me. My eyes flutter shut as I hum, trying to answer.

“I can’t,” I murmur, Paige’s lips doing their best work as her teeth nibble my earlobe making me hiss. “Me and Jay are gonna come watch you play,” I admit breathlessly, making her pull away from me.

“Seriously?” She asks, brows furrowed in annoyance. I shrug, unsure why she was so upset.

“I’ve been beggin’ for you to come see me play and nothin’? But for Justine…?”

“It’s her birthday! I promised I’d do what she wanted!” I argue, my voice rising the tiniest bit once more.

Paige looks at the ground and shakes her head frustrated, breathing heavy through her mouth. I couldn’t help but feel a little bad, I never in a million years thought she cared this much about me seeing her play. I didn’t even care about going with Jay. Honestly, I just wanted to see Paige in her element. I loved listening to her talk about ball, the way her eyes sparkled with knowledge and passion. She might be a piece of shit and an asshole but I really admired her resilience and ambition. If Paige was anything it was incredibly focused and dedicated. Sometimes to her own fault, I thought.

“Besides I bet Claire or-”

“Clara.”

“Right, Clara, will be there to watch you play!” Her name tastes sour in my mouth.

“I don’ care about her, want you watchin’ me!”

“Well I will be watchin’ you!”

“With Justine!” Paige groans with a roll of her eyes, her hands waving around as she speaks. I watch her bewildered when it hits me. She’s jealous. Paige Bueckers is jealous.

“You’re jealous?” slips from my mouth with a confused scoff, making Paige freeze. She looks at me for a moment, debating, then shaking her head.

“No. I just- I don’ wanna talk about it, I don’t wanna fight,” she sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers. There’s a hint of defeat in her voice which makes me waver. My annoyance and confusion slip away as I watch the way her blue eyes soften. 

“Let’s not fight Val, please.”

“Okay,” I hum and let her pull me into a hug. As her nose buries into my hair, for a second I think she’s smelling it, inhaling carefully - but I must be mistaken. She had never done that before.

“P I gotta go,” I murmur against her chest, not wanting to but knowing Jay was growing more and more suspicious as time passed. Frankly, we still weren’t exclusive so none of this was technically cheating. Still, I hadn’t told her. I had convinced myself that eventually I would. I just don’t know when.

“I’ll walk you,” she whispers, making me chuckle.

“Yeah that wouldn’t be sus at all huh?”

Paige grins, looking down at me. “Just tell her we’re fucking around.”

With a furrow of my brows I shake my head. “Nah.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Paige is smirking smugly now, staring into me. “Oh because then you’d have to tell her how I fuck you better than she do?”

I blush and roll my eyes. I wasn’t about to admit she was right.

Pushing her off me, I grab my bag from the floor and give her one last glance. She reaches her hand to my jaw and holds it, pressing a tender kiss to my lips making my heart flutter for a second.

“Text me when you’re there ma,” she murmurs against my lips before letting go and opening her door for me.

“I will.”

Waving bye to Jana and Allie too who I’d become friendly with this last week, I walk out of the dorm into the chilly evening, February still forcing me to wear my white puffer jacket. I wrap it around me tightly as I hurry towards Jay’s dorm, trying not to think myself to the grave over Paige’s behaviour  - loving, caring, a different Paige than I knew last fall. I almost wish she was the same as she used to be, the careless player who didn’t let me sleep over or get to know her roommates. Because now I had what I had always wanted from her. Except it wasn’t a dream come true. It was terrifying. My heart wanted to give in, to let myself feel. But I was horrified of what she could do again, how she might hurt me this time.

I’m still in my thoughts when I reach Jay’s door, knocking on it urgently. Before I can even lower my hand, she opens the door, a frown on her face.

“You’re late.” she says, letting me in nevertheless. The room is lit with candles, homemade dinner gone cold on the plates and a bouquet of flowers in a vase - my heart sinks. Not because I missed out on what Jay had planned, but because I didn’t want this. Not from her. I felt like a piece of shit for thinking that this was way too much. But it’s true. 

“Fuck Jay, I’m so sorry. I got caught up at Ted’s. I didn’t know a Tuesday night would be this busy,” I chuckle trying to lighten the mood, seeing a teddy bear with a big red bowtie sitting on the couch, giving me the creeps.

“Whatever Val,” she sighs, clearing the plates away. I watch, not sure what to say.

“Your roommates, where-”

Jay turns to me, tears in her eyes. “I paid them both to be out tonight, to make tonight special. But you didn’t even come.”

“I’m here now!” I say, walking over and grabbing her hands. I never knew what to do when someone cried, I wasn’t the consoling type, I was the advice type. My friends didn’t come to me to be comforted, they came to me to know what to do next. I always had a plan. But this was way out of my comfort zone. I hated when girls cried because of me.

“Look, I’m sorry, it was so busy. I didn’t even realise I was late,” I lie, looking straight into her blue eyes. It’s hard, I don’t like it, but the words slip from my lips more easily than I thought. 

Jay pouts and nods, wiping the tears from her eyes. “It’s not your fault just… next time call.” Her voice is weak. I really felt like an asshole. I had to end it with Paige, I knew I did. I just simply couldn’t. My heart didn’t let me for some reason.

“Okay, I’m sorry Jay. C’mere.” I pull her into a kiss, but it feels wrong, icky almost. She kisses me back though, her hands wrapping around my waist. I catch a whiff of Paige’s cologne on my sweater.

“Let’s order pizza, okay?” I ask against her lips, not wanting to open my eyes and face reality, the tugging of my heartstrings. I felt like I was being ripped apart, stuck between crossroads. I could feel myself falling for Paige. I knew it by the way my heart ached when we said goodbye, the way my eyes were constantly looking for her in a crowd. I was falling for her, yes. But the moment I admitted that the fear would come roaring in, like a tide, ready to bury everything underneath it. She had so many tools to hurt me, so many that she was unaware of. God if she knew how I felt I’m sure I’d never heard from her again. It would ruin everything. Being with Jay was good, secure, the right thing to do. Even if I didn’t feel half as much for her, my heart didn’t flutter for her - at least she couldn’t break it either.

-

Be you. Be great.

I watch the text from my dad flash on my screen, sitting in front of my cubby, legs bouncing nervously. I already knew we’d win today - we weren’t playing anyone special. An attitude Geno would surely smack the back of my head for, but it’s simply true. It wasn’t the upcoming game making my finger tap nervously against the back of my phone, it was the text I had typed out, my finger hovering over the send button, making my stomach flutter.

Miss u Val

“Yo warmups!” KK snaps me out of my trance, my finger accidentally pressing down on the send button. Shit. Now Valerie was gonna know I miss her. 

Sure it had only been a couple days since she was last in my arms, but being away from her made my heart ache. Usually the more I saw a girl the less I wanted to see her. Valerie, however, seemed to have the opposite effect. I couldn’t get enough. Guess it had something to do with the “feelings” I had for her.

“Shit you scared me,” I chuckle, my cheeks turning red as I hide the screen which KK does not miss. She grins at me, elbowing my shoulder teasingly.

“You texting Valerie?”

“Yooo,” I roll my eyes but don’t deny it, a sly smile forming on my face. Raising my brows and scratching the back of my head I look at the shorter girl standing in front of me. “She’s comin’ to watch tonight.”

“Oh forreal?”

“With Justine,” I scoff, standing up to join KK in heading in for the warmups, my jersey on, hidden underneath the warmup clothes. She snorts and shakes her head.

“Crazy work to name a child that,” She laughs.

Nodding, I snort a little. “That’s what I’m sayin’ like.” I might joke, but Justine was the one getting to bring Valerie to a game. Not me. I would take a stupid name like that too if it meant I got to do that.

“You jealous?” KK asks, noticing the way my teeth grind together. I quickly shake my head, not very convincingly, but flexing a little to make up for it. “Nah, I’m the ultimate rizzler remember? Nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”

Truthfully? I was a little worried. Taking a deep breath I try to push that feeling away as we enter the court, the seats slowly filling as the crowd makes their way in.

“Bro just tell her how you feel,” KK murmurs as we both stretch, watching some of the girls running around the court.

Her words make me scoff, how naive. “It’s not that simple,” my voice is stern. No one seemed to understand the pressure I was under, not even my best friend. To even suggest something like that felt insane. I couldn’t tell Valerie. Not with a natty on the line, not with all this pressure. 

Besides, what then? She feels the same and we date? I’d make a shit girlfriend, I know it. I was too selfish, an asshole. I wasn’t girlfriend material. Not for anyone as special, as precious as my Valerie. All she did was complicate things. Even now, my head was spinning with the thought of her. As if I don’t have to be at my best, have my head in the game in like an hour. God, I need to get a grip. Maybe I deserved to lose today. I was unfocused, a disappointment.

“Girl you’re an idiot,” KK sighs as we jog up and down the court. My eyes are immediately looking over the student section when her golden brown hair glimmers in the light like a beacon just for me to find her. She’s sitting in the third row, legs crossed in a mini denim skirt, much too short for the weather outside. An oversized black sweater reveals her left shoulder and collarbone, the mark I had left visible to everyone. Bold. I suppose Jay must have thought it was her doing. Boy if she knew. Part of me wanted everyone to know she’s mine. Only she wasn’t.

It’s not just Valerie’s hair, but the gold dangling on her wrist as she brushes her hair back, the rings decorating her fingers and the earrings contrasting against her dark locks that make the whole place shimmer, all because of her. I simply can’t look away. My twisted fantasies of having some sort of ownership over the brunette is quickly interrupted when Justine’s hand wraps around her shoulders and I notice the blonde girl, kissing Valerie’s cheek. My Valerie’s. I nearly trip over my feet, making KK laugh out loud - her laughter echoing around the court, taunting me.

-

“Guys what the hell is wrong with you, we should be up by 20 at this point against a school like this? That was the worst offense I’ve seen in my who-”

Geno’s scolding is ear-piercing as I sit in the dressing room next to the other girls, my elbows leaving red marks on my thighs as I lean against them and wipe the sweat dripping down my neck. My chest heaves as Geno takes turns chewing off each of us, dreading for my own turn.

We were only leading by four pathetic points, and had to struggle even for that. It was all my fault, I already knew. I didn’t need Geno or anyone to tell me that. I was unfocused, making bad decisions, causing turnovers - I even missed a free throw for the sole reason that just moments before I had seen Jay’s lips pressing into Valerie’s. God, just the thought was making me feel sick.

“Paige,” Geno’s stern voice snaps me out of it, my eyes lifting to meet his. But all he does is shake his head, and it’s even worse than him yelling at me. I wanted him to cuss me out, anything else.  “You know,” he simply says and I nod. I did know.

At least now I had the confirmation of everything I had suspected all along. A girl was nothing but a disturbance, a hitch in my plans. I can’t believe I had let myself do this, get distracted because of some girl. A classic fool. And I was about to make a fool out of my whole team too.

Once Geno leaves and gives us some time before the third quarter, I check my phone, my repentant thoughts quickly subsiding when I see the texts.

i miss you too p

fuck you look hot in that jersey

okay biceps you looking swole? when have you had time to hit the gym that much

wish i could come spend the night

My heart flutters, all of it is flattering sure. But it’s the first and last message that get me to take deep breaths. She misses me. She wants to spend the night with me. The weight on my chest eases up.

U should come over after

i can’t

promised jay

Fuck Justine 

Just come up w sumn

you really miss me that bad?

So fucking bad baby

Going to ted’s after the game

ok i’ll figure something out

Something about the texting and the adrenaline from the game made me bolder, more honest.

Valerie?

yeah?

U look gorgous

Gorjes

gorgeous?

Shut up it’s hard to spell :(

student athlete who

Gotta go warm up

paige?

Yeah?

go kill em

-

It’s hard to miss the moment the Huskies walk in, all in a big group in their navy blue Uconn trackies laughing and hyping up the blonde in the middle, whose face is scrunched up as she tells them to chill. I knew Paige well enough that she didn’t mean any of that, she loved the limelight.

All of the second half of the game Paige had been glowing on the court, completely unguardable, the star I always knew she was. With her help the Huskies had won with a 20 point lead despite the rough first half. I could’ve watched her forever. Every shot, every pass, every block had me on my toes, and I swear I was always the first one to jump to my feet to cheer for her. I forgot about the crowd, even Jay next to me. On the court it might as well just have been Paige Bueckers, I wouldn’t have noticed the difference.

“Babe, tell Alex I’m right!” Jay interrupts my thoughts, forcing my eyes to snap from Paige to her sitting around a table with some of her friends, a red partyhat on her head for the birthday celebration.

I blink stupidly, having missed the whole conversation.

“Shots for everyone!!” I hear Paige yell behind me, forcing a crooked smile to grow on my face.

“Uh sorry I couldn’t hear you,” I admit, glancing over my shoulder hoping the tall blonde would notice me eyeing her. She was too busy leaning over the bar, clearly eager for the drinks.

Jay giggles and presses a wet kiss on my forehead. “You’re so cute,” she murmurs. I nearly vomit. 

Suddenly claustrophobic from her closeness, I brush Jay’s hand away. “I need another drink.”

“But you still have some-”

I quickly down the rest of my vodka soda, before standing up and taking quick steps in my boots towards the group of really, really tall girls surrounding Paige, flutters in my stomach growing with each step.

“Valerie!” KK is the first to notice me and wrap an arm around me. The sound of my name makes Paige’s head snap towards my direction, the smile on her face only growing wider when she sees me. Without thinking and before I can stop her, Paige is wrapping her hands around my waist and spinning me in the air, giggling, her head on my shoulder.

“Oh my God put me down!” My command is not cogent, the chuckles making me less convincing. Paige obeys anyway and lets me go, both of us glancing towards the table where Jay is sitting, still immersed in conversation with her friends. Feeling bold, Paige’s hand rapidly slides down my back to my ass, groping it harshly before letting go. The fact that Jay could see only makes me want her to do it again. Maybe I should see a therapist.

“Val I know you’re not working but can you make the Shirleys pleaaaase,” the blonde in front of me begs, her pleading blue eyes almost getting to me. “They’re fire.”

“No! I’m a free woman tonight!” I proclaim, leaning my elbows against the bar. Paige does the same, her side pressing into mine sending jolts all over me. 

“Fine, whatchu drinkin’ ma?” she asks. “Vodka soda?”

“With crush-”

“Crushed lime, I know.”

Paige orders the drink, paying for it without making it a big deal in any way. I always found her smoothness so incredibly sexy. Right now as she stood there, elbows on the bar, chewing on her bottom lip, shower fresh and beaming from the win, I swear I had never felt so attracted to her. It wasn’t just pure lust, but something else too. Something more.

“That third quarter,” I start, the praise immediately causing a smirk to grow on the blonde’s face.

“Yeah? You watched me?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

I smile too, looking down to my feet. “You were born to do that.”

When our eyes meet again there’s a hint of something vulnerable and genuine in Paige’s expression. All the other noise seems to quiet down, leaving us in our own bubble, just us two. It bursts quickly when I feel a hand wrap around my waist. I know who it is before I even look, evident by the pure annoyance on Paige’s face.

“Hey babe are you fangirling over here?” She jokes, kissing my cheek. I pull away a little but Jay’s a few too many drinks in to notice.

Paige quickly smiles and shakes her head, sipping her drink. “Nah, I was. She makes the best dirty Shirley around, trust.”

I stare into her blue eyes, secretly enjoying this little game we were playing. Tiptoeing the line between strangers and something more.

“Yeah she insisted on getting me a drink for all the times she’s been yelling into my ear to play Drake,” I tease back, my mind immediately going to the many nights Paige had made her way behind the bar, one time even getting on her knees on the disgusting, sticky floor and begging me to let her play a few songs. From the smirk on her face, I know Paige is thinking the same.

Jay’s eyebrows shoot up watching us, clearly surprised. “Hm. No one told me you two know each other that well.”

“I mean we don’t, I just know she works here,” Paige quickly corrects, her brows furrowing as she points to me. “Your name’s uh… Vivien?”

“Valerie.”

Paige and me both smirk a little, Jay missing it completely. 

“Riiight sorry,” Paige grins, sipping her drink and turning to the blonde next to me. “Sick hat.” She’s being sarcastic.

“Thanks man, it’s my birthday,” Jay answers, a little flustered at the attention she was getting from the girl in front of us.

“Damn, happy birthday,” Paige says politely, patting Jay’s shoulder in a manner only I knew was condescending. 

Excusing herself, Paige leaves me and the blonde girl by the bar, every cell in my body screaming to follow her.

“Paige Bueckers just wished me happy birthday,” Jay says in awe.

-

The girl whose waist I’m holding, kissing my neck might as well not exist - I barely notice her. My stare is locked on Valerie and Justine, giggling and dancing in the corner of the packed bar. They look happy. 

A pang of guilt washes over me momentarily. Here’s Justine who, yeah sure is short, but really seems to like Valerie, takes good care of her. And maybe Valerie would learn to be happy with her if I just let her. The nauseating images of them adopting a dog together, getting married, raising children and growing old with each other flash through my mind. It’s enough to cause a tremble in my lower lip, my eyes welling up. The ache in my chest was trying to tell me something I wasn’t ready to admit.

“Can we go back to yours?” Clara hums, her teeth nibbling on my earlobe when a single tear rolls down my right cheek. I quickly wipe it off, my eyes finally turning to the girl next to me. To my relief she’s too busy trying to turn me on to notice my red eyes.

“Not now Clara,” I murmur, my voice barely audible over the music and chatter.

The girl’s face scrunches up in annoyance as I push her off me, gently but with a firm hand.

“What’s your problem? You’ve been like this all night, it’s like I’m not even here.”

“Not now.” I rub the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes and trying to take calming breaths.

“If you don’t want me he-”

“I don’t want you here Clara, I didn’t even ask you to come.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence between us, the girl next to me staring at me with wide eyes, hurt written all over her face. I wasn’t strong enough to fight how I felt anymore. It was time to face my feelings, even if it scared me.

“This is over, okay?” I admit, my gaze meeting Clara’s. She blinks at me slowly, processing. I feel like I should say something, explain myself. But nothing I could say would make it better so I stay quiet.

In silence, I watch Clara hop down from the bar stool and look at me one more time.

“My friends were right about you.”

With that she leaves Ted’s and relief washes over me. I grab my phone, and type out a text.

I’m sorry but I can’t see u anymore, just got too much going on

I copy and paste it, sending the words to each girl on my roster, not bothering to wait for any responses before deleting their numbers. Zoe, Jenny, Sofia, all gone. It was almost exhilarating, the way my body worked before my brain could catch up. Glancing to the opposite corner of the bar I finally catch Valerie’s eye. I nod my head towards the bathrooms before heading in myself. She’s quick to follow, leaving Justine behind. It was time to be brave, the kind of person who deserved Valerie.

The bathrooms are tiny, both of us making the space more cramped when I let Valerie in, locking the door behind us. Before she can say anything, her big brown eyes blinking at me, I’m kissing her. Not with any other agenda except aching to feel her lips on mine. My left hand cups her face, right hand holding her body close to me by her waist. Hungry for more, my tongue slips between her lips.

“Paige…” Valerie’s voice is soft against my lips, her breathing heavy as her hands hold my hips. 

“Shh,” I hum, my hands gently brushing through her hair as my kisses turn from hungry to loving, our lips slowing down in their dance. After a while we both pull away breathless, our foreheads resting against one another. Before my brain catches up, the words spill from my mouth.

“Leave her.”

Valerie’s brown eyes widen as she leans her head back to look at me.

“I- huh?” 

I swallow, thinking about doubling down for an instant. No. This needs to be it. Be brave Paige.

“Justine. Leave her.” There’s a hint of anxiety in my trembling voice, but the way I stare at the brunette girl in front of me lets her know I’m serious. Her expression is hard to read, the cramped space muffling the sounds of the world outside. In this moment it’s just us. Frankly, I had no idea what I was doing. I might really screw us up now. Lose her forever. But I didn’t have any fight left in me. It was bound to happen.

“Why?” she asks, her dark brows furrowing a little.

I scoff lightly, taking her hands in mine.

“Why? You know why.”

From the way Valerie blinks at me confirms that she did know - this wasn’t just sleeping around anymore, this had gone beyond. We both knew.

My thumbs smooth over the soft skin of her petite hands, the red polish decorating her nails, the chunky gold rings cool against my fingertips. I was trying to be patient, giving her time to process. But the pounding in my chest was making me lightheaded, the anxiety making my cheeks turn red. I felt vulnerable, exposed, terrified. Yet, I don’t speak or hurry her.

“No, stop it.”

Before I realise what’s happening, Valerie pulls her hands away from me, her eyes full of suspicion. My stomach stirs as she reaches for the door but I stop her.

“No, wait, please Val,” I plead, hand on the door handle.

“I can’t do this again,” Valerie cries out, her eyes filling with tears. I reach to wipe them away but she moves back from me. It breaks my heart.

“No ma, ‘s not like that this time. I left Clara, I left all of ‘em. Fuck all of ‘em ok? I don’t want ‘em!” My voice is desperate, chasing the brunette’s brown eyes as she avoids my gaze. 

“I need some air,” she murmurs, unlocking the door. However she doesn’t get far before bumping into Justine’s chest, standing right outside the bathroom eyeing both of us.

All three of us go silent as the blonde girl stares dumbfounded. 

“What the fuck is going on?” She slurs, alcohol evident in her voice.

“Jay I-” Valerie starts but Justine is quick to flip around and take hurried steps towards the exit. I follow the brunette out of Ted’s, the parking lot quiet on a rainy night.

“Jay, please wait! Let me explain!” Valerie pleads, grabbing Justine’s hand but she pushes her away, forcing the brunette to stumble back a little. My fingers flex with anger as I step between the two girls.

“Whoa, yo nuh uh,” I say sternly, shaking my head at Justine who’s looking at me like she might actually jump me. I wasn’t worried, I could take her. “Don’t touch her.”

The blonde scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You can’t tell me not to touch my girl!”

Her girl? I feel anger rising from my gut, heat ascending to my neck and cheeks. I step into her space, looking down at her as I do. 

“Don’t you get it?” I chuckle, an arrogant smirk on my face, basking in the way she had to tilt her head up to look at me. “Val’s not your girl.”

“Paige-” Valerie’s voice is careful behind me, her hand gently reaching for my forearm.

“You wanna know why she been too tired to come over? Because she’s been in my bed, getting fucked like she deserv-”

“PAIGE!”

Valerie pulls me back by my arm, her eyes wide and furious as she looks up at me. The adrenaline was making me bold, I wanted the world to know she’s mine. No one else’s. My Valerie.

“Fuck you both.” Justine slurs, heading back inside the bar, clearly not the fighting type. Deep deep down I wish she had jumped me just so I had the excuse to punch her at least once for calling Valerie her girl.

The brunette lets go of me and scoffs, shaking her head as she starts walking away from me. Suddenly coming to my senses, I follow behind her apologetically.

“Ma, wait.”

“Paige what are you doing?” She cries out, a desperate frustration evident in the way she speaks as she turns to look at me.

I step into her space, hands itching to touch her. Better not. Not right now. Biting my lower lip I sigh and shake my head.

“Sorry it just pissed me off hearing her-”

She’s not listening but profusely shaking her head, eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t understand you, I don’t get what you want from me!” She bursts out. My hands come to hold her shoulders, taking it as a good sign when she lets me.

“I want you Val,” I finally admit. Not just to her but to myself.

“But what does that even mean?!” She’s clearly frustrated, tired of the confusing cat and mouse game we’d been playing since we met. I was tired too.

“Look ma, I’m done with all the other girls, and you’re done with Justine. I dunno what that means but-”

“But what? We date? Become girlfriends? Then what?” She spews. I rub my forehead and eyes with my hand, feeling my head spinning. Maybe I hadn’t thought this through.

“Maybe-”

“Until you find the next girl you wanna fuck? Or freak out again?”

“No Val not this time-”

“How do you know?” She asks, a hint of desperation in her voice, looking for any sign that this was a risk worth taking.

“I uh,” I mumble, my skin turning hot, bringing my hands behind my head, rubbing my hair, trying to soothe myself.

“How do you know, Paige?!” Valerie screams, her big brown eyes pleading with me for a reason. Before my brain could catch up my mouth’s already forming the words. The words I had not had the time to admit to myself yet - that feeling that had been gnawing at me for weeks now. The twist in my gut, the dizziness in my head. I finally understood.

“Because I love you Valerie!”

-

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[razorblade180]

Ekko Location

Ekko:*thousand yard stare*….

Caitlyn:(Should I tell him? No, false hope doesn’t do any good. Especially in this case.) *looks left*

Giant mural of Jinx

Caitlyn:….Ekko?

Ekko:What could you possibly want after everything?

Caitlyn:Hopefully, an olive branch. I have to tell you something but you have to promise to not get your hopes up, or tell Vi. This is something I’m trusting with you specifically.

Ekko:And how in the world did I get such an honor?

Caitlyn:Because if it wasn’t for one act of kindness, I’d be in your shoes right now.

Ekko:…What do you have to tell me?

xxxxxx

One month later. Somewhere across the water, in a nice quaint land known for its view of the ocean and mountains, a cloaked girl bobs her head to music as she roams the back alleys streets without a care in her mind.

Jinx: 🎶Do you ever wanna catch me?Right now I'm feeling ignored. *turns corner*

Jinx:So can you try a little harder? I'm really getting bor-

Ekko:*cloaked* !?….

Jinx:…..(Just when I thought I’ve wrangled all the voices. This is a low blow, me.) *closes eyes* (Just gonna breathe in and-)

Ekko:*grabs her wrist*

Jinx’s eyes immediately shoot open to see him right in front of her. She starts looking back, forth, everywhere; her thoughts trying to rationalize this moment because what do you mean he’s real!?

Jinx:Y- wha- how? How!? Fuck everything else. How?

Ekko:Let’s just say someone offered me a little hope. Honestly it was more like wishful thinking.

Jinx:Ekko, that’s not a “how” at all! You left Zaun to chase wishful thinking? That’s alone is crazy, but not as crazy as you actually finding me! I could’ve gone in any direction and stopped anywhere yet somehow you’re right here searching in the correct city? Gasps Did you put something in me?!

Ekko:What? No! Jinx, we used to spend literal hours talking about all the places we wanted go; the sight ls you wanted to see. Sometimes you rambled so much I never got a word in to say mine!

Jinx:So you’re telling you just remembered all that ramble and started flying to the places I yapped about!? Who the heck remembers stuff like that!?

Ekko:Me!! Since when have I ever forgotten anything!? Especially stuff about you!?

The girl was too stunned to speak. Ekko told no lies and he had a point, however, what the hell? How was she supposed to respond to that? She told absolutely nobody that she was leaving and left no trace, yet somehow wishful thinking from probably the world’s most annoying enforcer and childhood memories was enough for Ekko to find her in a little over a month. Jinx could only squint at him in disbelief. Sure, she could definitely break free of grip and make a break for it, yet this moment only gave her the strength to exhale tiredly before him.

Jinx:Anyone else know?

Ekko:Nope. You think people have time to chase hypotheticals?

Jinx:So you just left??

Ekko:Told them I needed some air. Had to move quickly. You don’t exactly stay in one place for long.

Jinx:…..Alright. Out with it. I know you have some rehearsed lecture and rant you’ve prepared in case you actually somehow weren’t crazy and found m-

Ekko:*hugs her* I can tell at you later.

Jinx:You really just might be crazier than me.

Her entire body relaxed as she finally put her arms around him. Despite all odds, he really was right here. Leave it the Boy Savior to yet again foil her schemes.

Jinx:At this point I should call you Ekko Location or something.

Ekko:I this point, I should put a fucking bell on you.

Jinx:I’d still get away.

Ekko:And I’d find you again.

Jinx:Heh, yeah. *hugs tightly* You would, wouldn’t you?

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for Drakel behind the cut; "a pocketful of Kons". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Bruce turns down a side hall and heads for the metal door at the end of it. He still hasn’t said a word since they got here aside from the comment about codenames, and continues in the fine Bat-tradition of not telling them a single friggin’ thing they might need to know as he taps two fingers against the keypad next to the door. It slides open silent and smooth, and Tim tries not to wince as Stud keeps chattering excitedly at Cat and Star and Red while flitting back and forth between Star and Red, Cat still lounging casually in his arms and all three of them seeming entertained by him. 

Tim really, really wishes he understood what the hell was going on there. 

“What the hell,” a baffled-sounding voice says from the other side of the doors, and a Pocket squeaks in surprise. Tim can’t see past Bruce filling up the doorway, but the voice sounded like Green Arrow’s. 

“Bats, please explain why you have a Superman Pocket now,” Green Lantern’s voice says, and Stud startles and looks through the doorway himself, given he’s got a better vantage point than Tim does. “Which literally no one is surprised that you do, for the record, just that it took this long.” 

“They’re not mine,” Bruce replies matter-of-factly as he sweeps through the door, and Tim can finally see past him. The room ahead looks like a meeting room, and it’s mostly dominated by the large circular table in the center of it where Green Arrow, Green Lantern, and the Flash are all sitting with their respective Pockets. “Where’s Wonder Woman? I need to speak with her. The rest of you too.” 

“No idea,” Lantern answers with a matter-of-fact shrug, his Saffie peering curiously at Stud from his shoulder and chittering inquisitively. “She was here this morning, but some friend of hers called and needed her for something in Gateway, so she switched off monitor duty with Hawkwoman and headed back planetside.” 

“I think Canary said something about her calling something in earlier?” Arrow says, scratching at his jaw as he glances towards his Singsong, who’s leaning forward curiously too and making melodic little crooning noises at Stud. “But she didn’t talk to her herself and we were more concerned with digging through the news on that whole bizarre mess in Metropolis, so I don’t actually know what–oh, okay, so you brought up half the belfry today, huh.” 

“Well, only the half of us,” Dick says with a grin, Flash appearing in front of him in an electric rush and the two of them knocking fists lightly in greeting as Flash’s Charger chirps a greeting of her own and peers up assessingly at Stud. Stud jumps like he was startled by the suddenness of Flash’s appearance–which, also weird, Tim thinks, repressing a frown again. Flash can’t have been going that fast outside a combat or crisis situation that Stud’s own superspeed wouldn’t clock him. Though in retrospect . . . 

Does Stud actually have Superman’s powerset? He’s been flying, obviously, and he’s clearly more than strong enough to carry another Pocket around without even noticing their weight, but that’s not actually all that much, in terms of superpowers. Flight and enhanced strength are pretty basic ones, in fact, and Stud hasn’t even shown particularly impressive levels of either. 

Shapeshifting is less basic, but whether Stud has that or not is a whole different question anyway. 

Tim . . . probably should not have assumed that Stud would have Superman’s powerset, come to think. Or definitely should not have assumed Stud would have Superman’s powerset, more like. 

“Is the guy yours, man?” Flash asks skeptically, and Dick snorts. 

“Yeah, no, Red’s still annoyed over Star popping up, don’t think she’d forgive me getting a third Pocket,” he says wryly. “Robin woke up to him about six and a half hours ago.” 

Flash–pauses. Pauses for what is a very noticeable length of time, coming from a speedster. So do Green Arrow and Green Lantern. 

“That is a whole-ass adult man,” Flash says frankly, visibly raising an eyebrow even behind his cowl, and Stud looks briefly conflicted but then just scowls at him. “So, respectfully: what the hell?” 

“Yeah, we’re still figuring that out,” Dick says with a sigh and a shrug. Charger twitters up at Stud, who startles again and then abruptly abandons Cat on his shoulder and zips back behind Tim and–hides, again, for lack of a better word, same as he did when she and Star and Red were sitting down at the table and expecting him to come over and sit with them. Given that Charger is just as pretty as–well, not Star, because Starfire is in a whole league of her own, frankly–but is at least as pretty as Cat and Red, it’s still not a reaction Tim actually understands. 

Though there’s a lot of things about Stud that Tim doesn’t understand so far, obviously. 

[srslylini]

The way season 1 ended she was at a point so low she was ready to blow up a city (and like she did, she blew up the council). The start of season 2 showing her cathartic wasn't actually bad I liked that direction. It felt like they wanted to show her in a "nothing state" which depression also feels like.

they showed her as not caring about anything anymore (literally just walking through every scene in the music video sucker while everything just HAPPENS around her). The meeting with Isha, while still being a little bit odd since it felt like well they randomly put them together but that's something you can overlook, was amazing. She still just didn't care, played with her life.

Her reaction to seeing her sister being an enforcer? Gut punching. Extremely painful. The fight with her STILL being more in a nothing like state, just shooting the dude with her back turned to him felt very s1 which is good because again, Jinx in the end was like??? done.

and then.... act 2 happened. Suddenly they used Jinx's mental state as a Plot device. In season 1 it would ruin missions and her freaking out would happen no matter if "the plot needed it or not" if you get what I mean? The first mission we see on screen? fucked up because Jinx lost control. This happens throughout the first season, it doesn't just come when ever the writers need it to happen.

In season 2 it does. Suddenly in situations that should freak her out she doesn't. Suddenly they use it as a plot device. Why was she very calm and relaxed upon meeting Vander as warwick with Vi? Why did she not freak out when Vi and her fought in the mines?

Do we all remember what happened in season 1 episode 3? And how Jinx immediately lashed out as soon as a fight occured? What happened? Also why was she suddenly so very chill with Enforcers in act 2 and beyond? The joke with the Enforcer and her god damn fucking pants was so out of place I cannot even handle to think about it anymore. The fight with Warwick was good and I liked that in the end they again showed that she is ready to kill herself, at least there is continuity here but that is also never addressed and also... happens for Plot and plot only

it happens so warwick can see the bomb and so they can have him recognize her, like okay arcane writers? And then after that she is simply fine with her second father figure showing up again? You are telling me the girl who had such a mental break down last season over her sister returning would be absolutely fine and 🥺family🥺 upon seeing Vander? Where was the sense? Where was her having to deal with Silco and Vander in her mind? i don't WANT to see her tortured, duh, but they set that up and showed this happening to her in season 1, so this is just, I dont know, a plothole? You are telling me the same girl who blew up the council in s1, and like LOOK AT HER in that scene, is all cuddle cuddle with her past family whose death she always blamed herself for and was scared off?

Then Isha dying, and god do I have my problems with that but that's another thing, and THEN having Jinx never mention her again? Are you KIDDING ME? like it's not even just not mentioning her as much as it is just also Isha not appearing in her nightmares etc. That is NOT how they set Jinx up as a character. While the scene with Jinx in the prison with Silco turning up was chillingly heartbreaking it also didn't make sense if you take into account how they wrote her seeing things this season. In the one scene where she talked to Silco's chair she says he doesn't show up and then when she is in pain over Isha being caught suddenly he stands behind her? I mean maybe I missed something here but I literally sat there like huh.

In season 1 it happened not because it was needed but because it wasn't. As it should be. In this season it only happened when the Plot needed to move and that's just so incredibly weird to me. Especially cause I already saw people misinterpreting the Silco and Jinx prison scene. It was her subconscious telling her to kill herself not Silco trying to be "a positive influence".

And then or course, we have this tragic character Jinx. Who was shown to have a wish of death all throughout season 1 with how careless she was with her life (for example when she threw around the bombs in her hide out) and then throughout season 2 as well. Who saw a breath of life for a bit, taken from her.

To have a character like this ACTUALLY die by killing herself and then to paint it as a GOOD thing? This isn't a tragedy. This is straight up suicide glorification. I did not cry when I watched this scene, I did not feel sadness and grief. I was beyond mad and disgusted and might be for a long time to come.

I need more ppl to talk abt how awfully Jinx was treated this season. I am soooo angry and upset

[writingwithfolklore]

Who holds the power in your scene?

This is something we really explored during my time at film school, and is easier to see on the screen but still very applicable on the page. Essentially, in every scene there is one character who is holding the power—meaning they are driving the conversation, driving the action, they are in control because they are going after a goal, and if they are in power, are going to get the closest to achieving it. Every character should have some sort of goal going into every scene, and thus the power can and should shift between characters within the scene to create more interesting dynamics. So how do we do this?

1. Understand each character’s goal—and who is going to “win”

Each character comes into a scene with expectations that form their goal. Let’s do a breakup scene. Character A comes in with the expectation to go on a hike with their partner and have a good time. Their goal may start out as something simple like: “have a good time on this hike” or “avoid fighting with Character B”. Character B is going into this scene knowing they are going to breakup with character A, their goal is to literally just breakup with them.

If we know, as the author, that Character B is going to be successful, we know that this is their scene and they will ultimately hold the majority of the power. Vice-versa if Character A is successful in achieving their goal.

In knowing that, we can get into the actual mechanics of a power shift.

2. Character spacing and movement

Spacing and movement is the most obvious aspect in filmmaking, but may be forgotten on the page. In our example, I would place Character B ahead of Character A on the hike so that they are standing slightly above them on the incline. When they begin discussing their breakup, I would turn them around. Subconsciously, we know that B is “lording” over A, they have the high ground (har-har) and thus are the more imposing, powerful person.

Even the act of turning around would be a display of this power. So I would write it as,

B: Listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something… I just don’t really think either of us are happy—I don’t think this is really working anymore. A: What are you saying? B stops walking, turning on their heel to face them. B: I’m saying I want to break up.

3. The Driver of Conversation

Seen a bit in the last section, whoever is driving the conversation, steering the topic and tone, holds the power. You may notice throughout dialogue that there tends to be a questioner and an answerer, or someone providing the action while the other(s) are reacting.

A: I thought we were trying to connect more. Isn’t that what this stupid hike is about? B: Well it’s not working. I’m sorry. I’m done trying.

However, a character can grapple for and shift the power by calling them out or otherwise steering the conversation in a way that they would like instead. At this point, A would likely have shifted their goal from “having a good time” to proving that they were right about some change they picked up on, or in another case, may be trying to convince them to not breakup. If you allow them to “win” for a portion of the scene, you can reverse the power.

A: This is because of that person you met at work isn’t it? How dare you try to pretend that it has anything to do with me. B: Hold on—this has nothing to do with her… A scoffed, stepping forward on the incline. A: You are such a liar. You have been since the day we met. I don’t know why I ever trusted you.

B: I didn’t lie about that. I swear.

And let’s reverse the scene back:

A: What is it then? What is this really about? B: We’re just too different! I’m sorry. B steps past A and starts walking back the way they came.

Power can shift because another character took it, but it can also shift by the character in power giving it up, either intentionally or unintentionally.

4. The leader of action

Otherwise, the person who directs the action; is winning the fight, points out directions or creates the plan, or otherwise is determining where the characters go next or what they do next, holds the power in the scene. A grapple for power doesn’t necessarily need to be verbal but could rather be two people going opposite directions and one of them relenting, for example. This one is more obvious because it’s very visual, but is still an important aspect to how characters “win” or “lose” their goals in a scene.

[hyperions-light]

A home in life, a berth in death, a house of many mansions: the Necropolis fucks

Before the game came out the Necropolis was one of the top five places I was hoping they would let us visit in Thedas and I'm so thrilled it did not disappoint! The architecture, the atmosphere is impeccable, the reactivity everywhere (cleansing the Vault of the Beloved, the secret room that appears, the skeleton workers that begin cleaning different areas as the game progresses), the detail in everything. Did you know that in the room where you get the codex entry about the flesh-eating beetles, you can look down and see them running across the floor? Love it!

But the environment itself is only an aspect of what makes the Necropolis so much fun; the insight we finally get into Nevarran culture is possibly the most important thing that comes out of it. The only Nevarran we've really met before was Cassie (love her, she was not very informative, though), so to actually get to meet people who serve as stewards to one of the most sacred cultural rites is incredible and exactly what I wanted from this game. I loved discovering their unique perspective on magic, and how they handle their Templar Order.

It's also a fascinating lore point to discover that Emmrich can speak to the dead; we've never actually encountered a REAL ghost in DA, I don't think. There have been things which appeared to be pieces of once-living people, but it could always be explained by 1) weird magic causing them to live past their normal lifespan 2) a spirit acting as a dead person. Emmrich makes a distinction between speaking with real dead people and imbuing a once-living body/articulated skeleton with a spirit. This is so cool and interesting! And they've been doing this consistently and regularly, to talk to the late King Markus! All the magic applications in this game make the South seem so boring lol (but that's for another post).

And I love that the Necropolis itself is considered alive by the Watchers! It moves and rearranges its own configuration in accordance with some sort of unknown will; is it partially built inside the Fade? Is it imbued with magical energies, like Arlathan was? How old is it? Is the reason it functions this way because it's so old that it predates the separation of the Fade from the material world, or is it just that the Veil is thin there? Are the Lichlords the ones directing the Necropolis? How? So many interesting implications and questions brought up by just the building itself!

I think my favorite thing about the Necropolis and the Watchers, though, is how they present death. Most of the cultures that we've encountered so far in Thedas view death as a universally negative thing, but the Nevarrans celebrate its place in the cycle of existence. In the gardens, which are such a beautiful, peaceful location, there's a puzzle you can do where you have to turn on a series of meditation bells in a specific order to get into a treasure room; when you put together the poetry accompanying each bell in the correctly, they describe (metaphorically) the movement of a person through life and into death. It's such a gorgeous little detail, and I love the way the Necropolis is designed to encourage the player to think about death (it also folds in so neatly to Emmrich's personal plotline!), especially since it is so integral to the game as a whole (yet another different post).

Visiting Blackthorne Manor and picking up mementos in the Necropolis shows that, this death positivity is, in fact, a pervasive cultural attitude. Nevarrans believe that they have a duty to each other that persists after they die; that the body can keep being useful; that the living should honor the dead. It's such an interesting perspective that was missing from the DA series; people die all the time, and, of course, it's intended to make the player sad, but DA has never seriously discussed death, its implications, what it truly means or how it affects those left behind. They've never really made you sit and look at it as the player. There are some sad lines after Leandra dies in DA2, but it's mostly in the narrative to give Hawke a reason to hate blood magic and stuff. There's no funeral. There's a few lines from Gamlen, Hawke, and your companions, and then the game moves on. It's always like that; the game gives you a moment to be sad, and then it moves on. There's no mourning. But this game is partially about mourning! It's about people being gone, and it being too late; it insists you look at death and deal with it, and the Necropolis is the epitome of this.

The game asks the question over and over what you think the characters should do in response to their own losses, and the Necropolis represents are really interesting, nuanced, answer to that question. They're not gone; they're right there. They're still with you. You can go and visit them and celebrate who they were in a place that honors and cares for them, still. It's so beautiful and interesting and full of love, for the living and the dead.

I didn't even talk about Emmrich's plotline or the class differences in the Necropolis, or how everyone there is a weird goth nerd and I love it so much, but I think that's really the important point: the symbiosis. The living; the dead; the spirits; the corporeal, all finding a way to be together.

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light In |8|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Eight: Old Temptations

Summary: After hiding yourself away for weeks, Anika and Henry get you to return to the living. While you're at the party they bring you to, you run into Tara before a third-party runs into your fists.

Warning(s): Swearing, fighting - whoop whoop!! that's the sound, social interactions, and drinking (underage)

Notes: I made at least ten drafts, combined them, adjusted, and here is the final product. This is more of an R focused chapter, so you'll start to see more of the internal struggles she goes through along with a special guest start. As always, I hope you enjoy

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

The incandescent lights of Henry's apartment building buzz overhead as you follow him and Anika up the concrete stairs. Your boots echo against each step, creating a hollow rhythm that matches your reluctant heartbeat. You've been dreading this party all week, but your friends had worn you down with their relentless enthusiasm and pointed comments about your "hermit tendencies."

"I still can't believe you actually agreed to come," Henry says over his shoulder, his keys jingling as he searches for the right one. "Usually getting you out after exams is like trying to coax a cat into taking a bath."

"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf," you mutter, knowing full well it's a lie. The only reason you'd agreed was because they'd caught you in a moment of weakness—specifically, when you were coming down from a three-day study binge and your defenses were too low to properly deflect their persistent pestering.

Anika snorts, adjusting her glittering top that catches the harsh hallway light. "Right. And I'm going to start watching silent films with you."

"Charlie Chaplin’s a classic," you defend, following them into Henry's apartment. The familiar scent of his signature sandalwood candles hits you immediately. 

"Whatever you say, grandma," Henry teases, disappearing into his bedroom. You can hear him rummaging around, probably looking for whatever he plans to wear tonight.

You collapse onto his worn leather couch, the same one he'd rescued from a curb three years ago. Despite its questionable origins, it's the most comfortable piece of furniture you've ever encountered. Maybe if you sink deep enough into it, they'll forget you're here and leave without you.

Anika perches on the arm of the couch, already touching up her makeup in a compact mirror. "You know," she starts, and you recognize that tone—it's the one she uses when she's about to say something she thinks you won't like. "Tara might be there tonight."

Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. "And why would I care about that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Anika draws out the words, applying another coat of mascara with practiced precision. "Maybe because you've been moping around ever since your little disappearing act?"

"I haven't been moping," you protest, but even you can hear how weak it sounds. "I've been studying. There's a difference."

"Right," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. The past few weeks have been a blur of textbooks, coffee, and a blend of mathematical formulas and historical documentations. You'd thrown yourself into exam preparation with perhaps more vigor than strictly necessary, but that was just your way of dealing with stress. 

It definitely had nothing to do with how you'd ignored her texts afterward.

Dork (3:47 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I can't make it tonight

Tara (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) oh. lemme knw when u can reschedule 

Dork (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Tara, don't do that

Tara (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) dont wat????

Dork (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I know what 'oh' means

Tara (3:50 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) well then eblighten me cuz idk what ur ymmaring abt

Dork (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Enlighten/*yammering, and never mind

Tara (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) 🤓 is u fr 

Dork (3:52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Excuse me? 

Tara (3: 52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) i have to explain??? but i thougt u were all knowing!

Dork (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Thought. I know you know how to spell, you're just reckless with a keyboard

Tara (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) my question is when did i ask

Dork (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) That's an improvement

Tara (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) stfup.

Henry emerges from his bedroom, now wearing a fitted crop-top that every guy wore in the 80’s. "Are we talking about the Tara situation?"

"There is no 'Tara situation,'" you insist, making air quotes with your fingers. "Can we please just go to this party so I can suffer through it and get back to my peaceful, drama-free existence?"

"Drama-free?" Henry laughs, grabbing his keys. "Is that what we're calling your one-person production of 'Hamlet' these last eighteen years?"

You bite your thumb at him, but there's no real heat behind it. These are your best friends, after all, and you know their teasing comes from a place of love. Even if they're being particularly annoying about it tonight.

The drive to the party is a blur of street lights and the sound of Abbey Road. You're behind the wheel of your beloved '70 Ford Maverick, a car that Henry constantly ridicules. Anika claims the passenger seat, still fussing with her makeup, while Henry sprawls in the back, giving you directions that are more confusing than helpful.

"No, no, turn left at the next—wait, I meant right. My other left."

"Your other left?" you deadpan, making the turn anyway. "How many lefts do you have?"

"Don't sass the navigator," he replies primly. "Oh, there it is! The house with all the cars out front."

You pull up to the curb about half a block away, already feeling your anxiety spike at the sight of the crowded frat house. Music pulses from within, so loud you can feel it in your chest even from here. People mill about on the front lawn, red cups in hand, their laughter carrying through the night air.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you ask, killing the engine but making no move to get out of the car.

Anika turns to you, her expression softening slightly. "Because Henry threatened to sing the entire soundtrack of 'Cats' outside your bedroom door if you didn't come."

"That was a low blow," you mutter, finally unbuckling your seatbelt. "You know how much I hate that musical."

"Desperate times," Henry says cheerfully, already out of the car and bouncing on his heels with excitement. "Come on, let's go find out what kinds of terrible decisions we can make tonight!"

You follow your friends up the walkway, trying to ignore the way your palms are already sweating. The last party you'd attended had been... well, it had been a week before your self-imposed exile. The night Tara had looked at you with those impossibly dark eyes and asked if you wanted to get some air, and you'd panicked and made up an excuse about needing to check on your nonexistent fish.

The front door is already open, music and voices spilling out into the night. As soon as you cross the threshold, you're hit with a wall of sensory input that makes your head spin. The air is thick with artificial fog from a machine hidden somewhere in the corner, mixed with the distinctive scent of cheap beer and various perfumes and colognes. Multi-colored lights pulse in time with the music, turning everything into a strobing dreamscape and your nightmare.

Henry guides you through the crowd with a gentle hand on your back, navigating the sea of bodies with practiced ease. You catch glimpses of familiar faces as you pass. They all blur together in the dim light, becoming a kaleidoscope of features that makes your head swim.

You end up at yet another worn leather couch that's seen better days, probably around the same era as your car. Henry gestures for you to sit, and you do, grateful for something solid beneath you. The cushions seem to want to swallow you whole, and for once, you don't fight it.

"I'll get us drinks!" Henry shouts over the music, already backing away into the crowd. "Don't move!"

Anika lingers for a moment, looking torn between staying with you and pursuing whatever—or whoever—has caught her attention across the room. You wave her off with a weak smile. "Go. I'll be fine right here, becoming one with the furniture."

She hesitates another second before grinning. "Try to have some fun, okay? And text me if you need an escape plan." Then she's gone, disappearing into the crowd with the grace of Mindy, someone who actually enjoys these sorts of gatherings.

Left alone, you let yourself sink deeper into the couch, watching the party unfold around you. A group of girls near the makeshift dance floor are attempting some sort of choreographed routine, though the alcohol in their systems is making it more comedic than coordinated. Two guys are engaged in what appears to be an intense debate about pizza toppings, their gestures becoming more animated with each passing second.

The bass line of whatever song is playing thrums through your body, making your bones vibrate in a way that's not entirely unpleasant. You find yourself timing your breathing to it, using it as an anchor in the chaos. This isn't so bad, you think. You can handle this. It's just a few hours, and then you can go home and binge-watch your comfort shows until the sun comes up.

"Y/L/N special!" Henry's voice breaks through your thoughts as he returns, thrusting a red solo cup into your hands. The liquid inside is an alarming shade of orange that definitely doesn't occur in nature.

You eye it suspiciously. "What exactly makes it a ‘Y/L/N special'?"

"The fact that it's specifically designed for the same people who despise candy unless it's 99% cacao," he explains, dropping onto the couch beside you with his own drink—something amber-colored that you assume is actually beer.

"That's... oddly thoughtful," you admit, taking a tentative sip. It tastes like water that’s had lemons and limes soak in it for months, the kick makes your tongue tingle. "And dangerous."

"Just pace yourself," he advises, watching as more people filter into the already crowded space. "Oh hey, isn't that Charlotte?"

You follow his gaze to see Charlotte, the person you ended things with through a text message. You try to hide behind the red plastic in your hand as you sip, but you nearly spill your bitter bread water all over yourself when she notices you. You can tell it caught her off guard; her eyes slightly widened and she took an uncomfortably long pause mid-sentence. This pause caused her friends to look over which only made things even more awkward—at least for you. After shooting daggers at you and one of them flipping you off, they linked elbows with Charlotte and took her to a different room.

You know you deserved it.

Henry sucked his teeth. “Ouch. Casanova strikes again,” he chuckled with amusement.

“Ugh,” you express in response to the name for you before downing the last of the liquid in your cup. “I’m out. I’m gonna get one more.”

One drink turns into two, two turns into three, and somewhere during your debate with Henry over which Ninja Turtle’s the best one, you’re interrupted by a pair of familiar dark brown eyes meeting yours. Your attention always seemed to gravitate towards Tara Carpenter. 

You momentarily pause your expression of admiration for Leonardo, peeking over Henry’s shoulder to give Tara a downwards smile paired with a finger wave. She rolls her eyes and returns your finger wave in a mocking gesture. After Henry realizes what’s grabbed your attention, he makes an excuse to walk away.

You're nursing your fifth orange drink when she materializes beside you, seemingly out of thin air. "Seriously?" The word drips with exasperation. "You're actually hiding behind Henry?"

"I'm not hiding," you protest, pulling yourself up to what you hope is a dignified height. "I'm strategically positioning myself for optimal social avoidance."

Tara snorts—an inelegant sound that somehow makes her more endearing. "Is that what we're calling it?" 

The space between you crackles with a tension that's part irritation, part something else entirely. 

"I could ask you the same thing," you counter with a crack in your voice. Tara notices this and slightly raises an eyebrow while giving you a once-over. "Pretty sure you've been standing in the exact same spot for the last twenty minutes."

Her eyes narrow. "I'm observing."

"Stalking," you correct automatically.

"Strategically positioning myself," she throws your earlier words back at you, and there's a glint in her eye that makes your breath catch.

For a moment, you felt uncharacteristically at ease in such a setting—when you catch a fragment of a conversation that makes your blood run cold. 

“—Carpenter's got a mouth on her that could—"

The words slice through your alcohol-induced haze like a knife. Your head whips around so fast you almost give yourself whiplash, searching for the source of the comment. Two guys are leaning against the wall near the stairs, one of them making crude gestures as he continues to make vile comments about Tara.

The pleasant warmth in your system transforms instantly into liquid fire. You recognize one of them—Marcus Wheeler from your Calculus class, the one who always makes inappropriate comments during lectures and thinks he's God's gift to mathematics. The other is unfamiliar, but the way he's laughing and encouraging Marcus makes your skin crawl.

Your muscles tense. Tara notices immediately. "Don't," she warns, a single word packed with more meaning than should be possible.

But you're already moving, your body acting before your brain can fully process the decision. 

Your fist connects with his jaw before you even realize you've thrown the punch. There's a satisfying crack that you feel more than hear, followed by a burst of pain across your knuckles that you're too angry to properly register. The pain sends a rush through you, pushes you, tempts you for more. 

Marcus staggers back, both surprised and hurt, but recovers quickly. He lunges for you, but your muscle memory kicks in. You sidestep, using his momentum against him, and somehow you end up on top of him, getting in another solid hit before strong hands pull you away.

The world comes rushing back all at once. The music has stopped, replaced by the murmur of shocked voices and the ringing in your ears. Everyone is staring at you, their faces a blur of surprise and judgment. Marcus is on the ground, blood trickling from his split lip, and presumably broken nose, looking at you with a mixture of rage, disbelief, and fear.

Your chest feels too tight, like someone's wrapped steel bands around your ribcage and is slowly tightening them. The weight of what you've just done crashes over you like a wave, threatening to pull you under. You need to get out—now.

You shoulder your way through the crowd, ignoring Henry calling your name, ignoring the whispers that follow in your wake. Someone tries to grab your arm, but you shake them off, focused solely on reaching the door. The cool night air hits your face like a slap when you finally burst outside, but you keep walking, your hands shaking as the adrenaline starts to wear off.

The crisp winter air hits you like a slap when you stumble outside, your breath forming small clouds in the freezing night.

“Wait!”

When did she get here?

"Let me see," Tara's voice cuts through your alcohol-induced haze, her hand reaching for yours with a familiarity that makes your head spin—or maybe you've had one too many of those orange drinks.

You thrust your hand toward her dramatically, wincing as the movement sends a spike of pain through your bruised knuckles.

"I totally got that incel good," you slur, a giggle bubbling up from somewhere deep and slightly unhinged. The ice beneath your feet seems to shimmer with your triumph.

Tara's fingers hover just above your hand, not quite touching but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. "You're going to need ice for that," she says, her tone caught between exasperation and something else—something softer.

"Ice, huh?" You look down at the ground, the irony not lost on you. 

With exaggerated precision, you bend down and scoop up a handful of snow, pressing it against your knuckles. The cold bites, but it's a welcome contrast to the burning anger and alcohol still coursing through your system.

"This works, right?" You look up at her, your eyes wide and slightly unfocused. The world tilts slightly, but Tara remains steady—an anchor in your spinning vision.

Something flickers in her eyes—amusement, maybe. "You're something else," she mutters, but there's no real bite to the words.

Emboldened by alcohol and adrenaline, you lean in closer. The words tumble out before you can stop them. "So… I never did get an answer to that proposal."

Tara goes very still. A smile begins to form, tentative and fragile as first light. 

She chuckles at your remark before shaking her head and scoffing to herself. "Sometimes I just don't get you," she says with a smile still etched on her face, but there's more complexity in those words than simple dismissal as she stares back into your eyes.

Confusion must show on your face because she looks away, the streetlight catching the curve of her cheek, the set of her jaw. You didn’t know what else to say so you just said the first thing that came to mind. 

“Merry birthday, Tar,” you said. 

She’s taken aback by this. She didn’t know what to say, yet still opened her mouth to respond. Maybe something would come to her, but before anything did—

"There you are!" Anika's voice cuts through the moment like a knife. Your car pulls up to the curb, engine running warm against the freezing air. "We need to get out of here before that guy calls the cops."

The moment dissolves. Tara takes a step back, creating distance that feels more emotional than physical. You're left standing there, snow melting between your fingers, the taste of unresolved everything burning at the back of your throat.

As you climb into the passenger seat, you catch one last glimpse of her in the side mirror—a silhouette, perfectly still and impossibly distant.

—

The drive home is mostly silent, broken only by the occasional sigh from Anika and the gentle humming of your car's engine. Your knuckles throb in time with your heartbeat, a steady reminder of your momentary loss of control. The adrenaline is wearing off now, replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and alcohol-induced wooziness that makes you slouch lower in your seat.

"You know," Anika finally says as she pulls into your shared apartment complex, "when I said you needed to be more social, starting another fight wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

You grunt in response, too busy focusing on the way the world is tilting slightly to form actual words. The drinks are hitting harder now that the excitement is over, making everything feel soft around the edges.

"Use your words," she chides, killing the engine. 

"Words are for people who don't punch assholes at parties," you mumble, fumbling with your seatbelt. The simple mechanism seems impossibly complex right now.

Anika reaches over to help you, her movements gentle despite her exasperated tone. "Come on, Rocky Balboa. Let's get you inside."

Getting up the stairs to your second-floor apartment proves to be an adventure. You insist you can do it yourself, but after the third time you miss a step, Anika wraps an arm around your waist and practically drags you up.

"I can walk," you protest, even as you lean heavily against her.

"Sure you can. Just like you can make rational decisions at parties, right?" 

You attempt to glare at her, but the effect is somewhat ruined when you stumble over your own feet. "He deserved it."

"Oh, I'm not arguing that point," Anika says, fishing her keys out of her purse while still supporting most of your weight. "Marcus Wheeler is definitely in the running for Biggest Douchebag of the Year. But maybe next time we could handle it without violence? You know, like adults?"

"Adulting is overrated," you declare as she manages to get the door open. "If I was a kid, I could just pull Tara's pigtails or something."

Anika steers you toward the kitchen, depositing you none too gently into one of the mismatched chairs around your small table. "Okay, first of all, that's not the approach to crushing on someone that you think it is. Second, stay put while I get the first aid kit."

You slump forward, resting your forehead against the cool surface of the table. "Not crushing," you mumble into the wood. "Just... emotionally compromised."

"Right," Anika calls from the bathroom, where you can hear her rummaging through cabinets. "And I'm just 'casually interested' in my hot girlfriend."

"That's different," you argue, lifting your head slightly. "You two are together. You’re attached to the hip—you don’t hide from each other."

"Ha! So you admit you were hiding!"

You let your head thunk back down onto the table. "I admit nothing. I was studying. Very intensely. In locations where certain people were statistically unlikely to appear."

Anika returns with the first aid kit and a bag of frozen peas, setting both on the table. "Sit up, you disaster. Let me see your hand."

You comply with a dramatic sigh, straightening in your chair and holding out your injured hand. Your knuckles are already starting to bruise, spots of purple blooming across the skin. There are a few small cuts, probably from where you caught Marcus's teeth.

"This might sting," Anika warns before dabbing at the cuts with an alcohol wipe. You hiss through your teeth but don't pull away. "So," she continues, her tone deceptively casual, "want to talk about what really happened back there?"

"Not particularly," you mutter, watching as she carefully cleans each cut. "Can we just chalk it up to temporary insanity and move on?"

"You punched a guy for talking shit about Tara." She applies antibiotic ointment with practiced efficiency. "That's not temporary insanity. That's feelings."

You try to pull your hand away, but she holds firm. "It's not— I just— He was being gross!"

"Mhmm." She wraps your knuckles in gauze with precise movements. "And the fact that it was about Tara specifically had nothing to do with your reaction?"

"I would have done the same for anyone," you insist, even though you both know it's a lie. "It's about basic human decency."

"Right. Basic human decency. That's why you've been moping around our apartment for two weeks, taking different routes, and muttering under your breath when you think I can't hear you."

Before you can form a suitably indignant response, your phone buzzes. Henry's face appears on the screen, caught mid-laugh at some long-ago hangout.

You put the call on speaker, feeling too exhausted to hold the phone. Henry's excited voice crackles through, bursting with energy.

"Holy shit! Are you okay? That was the most badass thing I've ever seen in my life!"

"I'm fine," you mutter, wincing as Anika presses a bag of frozen peas against your bruised knuckles. "Ow! Except for my so-called best friend trying to give me frostbite."

Anika's tone is no-nonsense. "Keep the ice on, or your hand will swell up like a balloon."

Henry can barely contain his excitement. "You should have seen Marcus's face after you left. He was completely shaken. I don't think anyone's ever stood up to him like that before."

You groan, tilting your head back. "Great. Now I'll be known as the crazy chick who starts fights at parties. That'll look amazing on my resume."

"Are you kidding? You're going to be a legend!" Henry starts, then suddenly there's a scuffle in the background.

"Am I on speaker?" you ask, suspicion rising in your voice.

"No!" Henry says simultaneously with another voice declaring, "Yes!"

You recognize the second voice immediately. "Henry James Martinez," you say, using his full name—knowing how much he hates it—"Are you and Tony back together?"

"No!" Henry protests. "His place flooded, and he needed a place to stay!"

"Sure thing, Hef," you chuckle, catching Anika's amused smile.

Tony's cheerful voice joins the conversation. "Hey, heard you knocked some douche on his ass for talking shit about your girlfriend. Nicely done."

"She's not my girlfriend," you respond quickly.

Henry can't resist. "Define girlfriend."

You're ready with a comeback. "Define sharing a living space with—"

"Uh oh, bad connection," Henry interrupts, and suddenly the line goes dead. Anika bursts into laughter.

“I’m gonna get you some aspirin,” Anika offered, patting your shoulder as she passed. “But just so you know that whole ‘emotionally compromised’ thing? Yeah, that’s basically the definition of crushing.”

You make an incoherent noise of protest into the table. 

"Oh, and by the way," Anika calls from the kitchen, "you're totally teaching me that right hook tomorrow. After your hangover wears off, of course."

You lift your head just enough to deadpan at her. 

"Love you too, champ. Now take your aspirin and go to bed before you fall asleep on the table. Again."

Not long after she went to her room, you stumble into the bathroom, hand throbbing and head spinning—the former a reminder of the night’s events. The light is harsh against your alcohol-fogged brain. The tile floor is cold beneath your bare feet as you stumble to the sink, turning on the water and splashing your face.

When you look up, he's there.

Your Uncle's bloody corpse stands behind you in the reflection, that familiar crooked smile that's always been more predatory than comforting. His appearance is exactly as you remember from old photographs—that slightly manic glint in his eye, the way he holds himself like violence is always just beneath the surface.

"Killer punch," he says, leaning against the bathroom wall. No greeting, no preamble. Just direct observation.

You don't jump but roll your eyes. "Go away," you mutter, gripping the sink's edge.

He chuckles—a sound that's more bark than laugh. "I saw myself in you tonight. That rage? That precise moment of calculated violence? Pure genetics that chose you."

"I'm nothing like you," you snap, turning to face him directly. The bathroom suddenly feels smaller.

He takes a step closer. "Oh, but you are. That moment when you heard those guys talking about your girl? That split second before the punch? That wasn't just anger. That was hunting instinct."

You close your eyes, trying to block him out. "I'm not a killer. I'm not you."

"Not yet," he says, and there's something almost proud in his voice. "But you've got the potential. I saw how you moved. How you calculated. How you knew exactly where to hit to cause maximum impact."

"My dad’s a professional pig," you counter. "It’s not like I attended murder school."

His laugh is sharp, brittle. "Call it what you want. But we both know there's something inside you. Something sharp. Something waiting."

The argument feels familiar—like every nightmare, every family gathering where his memory haunted the edges of conversation, their fear of the parallels you both held. You're tired of it. Tired of him.

"I'm going to bed," you declare, pushing past his spectral form.

He doesn't disappear immediately. Instead, his voice follows you. "We're not so different, you and me."

You pause at the doorway, not turning around, as your hand tightly grips the edges of the doorframe. "We're nothing alike." 

The silence that follows is answer enough.

As you crawl back into bed, the room feels normal again—just another night, just another internal argument with a ghost who refuses to stay buried.

But somewhere in the darkness, you can still feel him watching. Waiting.

-----------

A/N:

gobble, gobble

[lightlycareless]

I was reading your scorned ex husband stories and they made me so sad(especially the second one) then I started thinking about the twin au and like what if the twins parent trap them in a different divorced au? Lol. Naoya is still a dick obviously for splitting up twins(seriously who would do that??) but maybe not completely irredeemable for Y/N to forgive him 🥺 Hehe this is just something silly I thought up and wanted to share

Hellooooooo

Heheh this got me watching the movie again, right in the nostalgia. It had been so long since I last saw it that I actually didn't remember most of it, but I do think however: how the hell did they think that was a good idea 🤣 gee, talk about parent of the year.

Anyways, some liberties were taken to make the story work, though the premise is essentially the same.

Also, these are the works anon is referring to :) Ex-husband 1 & Ex-husband 2. Now onto the warnings:

Warnings: none major. Naoya is an a_hole, as always. Naomi and Naori are adorable, but poor kids seriously :'(.

Happy reading!!

If Naoya does this, you effectively hate him from that point forward.

It is non-negotiable, you never want to see him ever again, especially after the cruel words he used to justify the separation of his children:

“I only ever cared about Naori anyways.”

You made it your life-long purpose to keep Naomi from someone as despicable as her father—though it hurt you to do so, for it also meant you’d be away from your beloved son; just 2 years into his life… you barely got to make any memories with him before he was stripped away from your arms.

But such was the divorce agreement: the two would keep one child, and out of their lives.

Naoya remains in Kyoto with his son at the Zen’in estate, while you move back to Tokyo, close to your family but distant enough to have your own apartment. Just the two of you, the little home you always wanted.

In an unexpected turn of events, Naomi and Naori would go on completely unaware of each other until enrolling in the same elementary school.

It was almost undetectable at the beginning since Naomi now had your last name—but once teachers and students alike began to realize their physical similarities, it became impossible to ignore.

“No… we don’t look alike.” Naori would quietly complain. Out of the two, he was the least enthusiastic about this advancement, doing his best to avoid the limelight due to his reserved nature.

However, that wouldn’t mean anything to Naomi: ever the bubble one, she was nothing but to have a new best friend that looked just like her!

“We’re almost like twins!” she gasped—same hair color, eyes, height… how could they not? “I’ve always wanted a baby brother too.”

“Well, I don’t! And I could be older too, you know? Besides, why would I want a sister that’s weak and ugly…?”

Intended to hurt her, Naomi only laughed at his words, for it would take much more than that to bring her down—one could even say that the two were reflections of their respective parents in that matter: the only contrast between the two, as a matter of fact.

“That’s not true!” she happily refuted, taking hold of his hand and heading to the playground. “Now, come on! I want to go on the swings, and I need someone to push me!”

Though Naori was greatly unwilling at first, he’d soon warm up to her, mainly because she was part of the few, if not the only, kid that didn’t bother him because of his shyness; always rushing to the rescue whenever bullies began to swarm him, as well as reassure him there was nothing wrong with being the way he was.

And if that wasn’t enough, the food Naomi began to share with him (courtesy of you, after much insistence from her part) effectively validated their friendship.

“When will you ever bring him over?” you tease, it’s the happiest you’d ever seen your daughter! And for that, you couldn’t help but feel glad and obligated to repay the favor.

“I don’t know, mama. Nori-kun tells me his papa can be quite strict.”

You chuckle.

“Well, I’m sure I can convince him next time the parents have a meeting at school.”

“His papa doesn’t go to school.” Naomi frowns, her words making you sad for the poor child. “Says he’s too busy.”

“Oh, that’s awful. Well, what about the mama?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

Your heart longs to comfort him.

If they only knew…

And as time went on and their friendship flourished even more, so did their interests for one another; beyond those of their favorite colors and toys, and more into… personal grounds.

Matters that had always quietly hurt Naori one way or the other since he could remember; more so since you had been nothing but sweet and kind to a figuratively unknown kid, which highlighted the fact he never had that one thing he always wished for.

What he might never have, since his father has long given up on it, considering the way he coldly changes the subject, or completely ignores it. Naori simply… doesn’t talk about it.

Until now.

“Why don’t you have a dad?” He dares to ask; it’s no secret that the one to pick him up at school is one of his father’s many subordinates, always changing, not enough to be interesting to the other parents outside of how rich (or a jerk) he must be to have employees pick up his child.

Compared to you, always spoken of fondly for the following reasons:

If it was Valentine’s Day, you’d send Naomi with a big box of candies so she could share with all the class.

Halloween was the same, even hosting small gatherings if the children wished to celebrate in a safe environment.

If it was a classmate’s birthday, you always made sure to send them a personal gift or attend their birthday party. Your gifts might’ve put some parents to shame from time to time, but it didn’t matter, you kind of grew to be some kind of celebrity thus a few always tried to be on your good side—or Naomi’s, so to speak.

Naomi’s birthday… well, some fought to be on the guest list.

In other words,you were an amazing for both kids and parents alike, enough to inspire Naori to daydream about what it would be to have a loving mother like you—to always be at the door once it was time to leave, patiently waiting for the moment your daughter would come into view and subsequently pick her up into a tight, warm hug, followed by a kiss and wide smile as you urged Naomi to tell you all about her day.

Or more importantly, wonder if you were open to adopting him.

“Oh… that—I… don’t know!” Naomi responds truthfully. “Mama never talks about him.”

“Have you asked her?”

“Once or twice, but all she says is that I should focus on my studies!

…

But I can see how sad she gets whenever I mention him.” She continues. “Mama isn’t very good at hiding “adult talk” and neither is my auntie, so I always get to hear how lonely she is when they talk about him! … and how she should try dating other people, or whatever that means, so she wouldn’t feel like that anymore.”

“I think is when you marry someone.” Naori tries to explain, Naomi scowls out of disgust.

She doesn’t like the idea of sharing her mama with someone else, grows somewhat jealous too.

Well, maybe if it was Uncle Nanami, he’s always been nice to her and her mama. Not Geto because she plans on marrying him herself.

And she supposes her papa too… but how could someone you love make you sad?

“I don’t want her marrying anyone.” Naomi shakes her head. “She’s happy with me!”

“But don’t you wonder about your dad?” he asks. “What did he look like? How did he meet your mom?”

Or how they fell in love?

Naturally. Because just as Naori, and even after you tried your hardest to distract her from it… she too longed to have a father. Someone to play with her after finishing all her homework, put her over his shoulders and let her see the world from his height, or protect her from the monsters that lived inside the closet…

There must be an answer to both of their mysteries—people don’t simply disappear.

And such, is how they assigned themselves a new mission; a task of the upmost importance, requiring all their attention and care if they wish to uncover why they only have one parent—and who was such peculiar character.

Anything that could hint such solution is a chance they’d take, however…

To Naomi, this endeavor proved quite fruitless, for any indication of your past relationship was effectively ripped from the evidence. Quite literally: thousands and thousands of pictures cut in half, neatly removing the person that accompanied her mother—whom she assumed to be her father. And that’s without mentioning your consistent disapproval of the matter. Naomi was right where she began.

This lack of advancement both frustrated her and placed more pressure onto Naori’s efforts, which shockingly, turned to be quite more than what they bargained for. Getting results neither could’ve imagined, not even in their wildest dreams…

“Naomi-chan… I’m not sure if you’re ready to see this.” Naori would caution as he placed down a large wooden box before her, filled with his findings.

“Why? Why not, Naori-kun?” she frets, surely it couldn’t be anything too outrageous.

…Could it?

Yes, it could. And it was.

Because beyond the astonishing realization that all the pictures Naori brought were in virtually perfect shape…

The fact they both recognize the people in the photo, Naomi’s mother, wearing that same bright eyed, wide smile look on her face whenever particularly excited. Happy—alongside Naori’s father, with his usual dyed hair, ear piercings, and striking eyes…

Holding two newborn babies—named Naomi and Naori such as the inscription in the back stated, alongside their birth time and date (Naomi is older, at last is known) …

Is what truly shocked them.

…

…

…

You. Naoya.

Naomi and Naori.

Mama and papa.

A family, for all intents and purposes.

What everyone around them proclaimed: siblings.

Naomi and Naori were siblings. Twins.

“Does that mean we—”

Naori nods. If it hadn’t been obvious enough by now.

Nonetheless, as thrilling as this discovery was, for it essentially made their respective dreams come true… another question arose. One that undoubtedly could not proceed unanswered.

“Why aren’t our parents together?”

Or most importantly:

“How can we get them back together?”

“But what if they don’t want to?” Naori frets.

“I told you already! Mama looks very happy wit him, and auntie says she’s very lonely too… besides, if they get back together that means we’ll finally be a happy family! And isn’t that what you wanted?”

Naori presses his lips together, nodding.

“I want a happy family too. I’ve always wanted a papa to play with!” Naomi continues.

“And a mom to hug…” Naori adds. “What do we do?”

First…

Get them together, face to face. In other words, talk. It’s how adults always preached problems got solved.

Since you had given Naomi the impression you’re not interested in anything pertaining to Naori’s dad, she had to get creative. Force you into a position where you wouldn’t be able to ignore her as you’ve done before—and one where Naoya would inevitably have to go to school too.

It had to be a convincing excuse, and since the two were children in need of dire solutions, their innocent minds led them to the most extreme resolution yet.

“I need you to punch me.” Naomi says, determined.

“Why?!” he gasps.

“Because I need to get hurt for mama to come, and if you’re the one in trouble they’ll have to call your papa, and then, the two will be here, just as we planned!”

“Can’t we do something less dangerous…?” Naori doesn’t like the idea of getting in trouble with his strict dad, as if he weren’t insufferable enough…

“No, Naori. It must be this!”

“But I don’t want to punch you…”

“Come on, we have to do it to have a family!!” she insists. “Or do you not want mama to make you food every day? To hug you too??”

He swallows.

“I do.”

“Then do it!”

And… he does. After taking a deep breath, clenching his fist and hitting Naomi in what she could only describe the weakest punch she could’ve ever anticipated. Surely, not enough to make this case convincing.

“Naori! You have to hit harder than that!”

“I—I tried!” he cries.

“No, you didn’t!” she cries back. “You didn’t even try!”

“Ye—yes I did!” Naori frowns. “It’s not my fault I’m not as strong as you!”

“Yeah, right! You’re a boy, you’re supposed to hit harder!” Naomi adds, smirking soon after an idea crosses her mind. “… Then I guess you don’t really want a mama.”

“I do want a mom…”

“No, it’s fine. I should’ve known not to trust you with something so important anyways—” she says, words that brush each and every one of Naori’s insecurities. “You’re just as weak as everyone else says…”

With a frown on his face, and a sour tightness in his chest, little Naori quickly clenched his fist and prepared himself to prove her wrong once and for all. Show that he wanted this just as much as she did—if not more.

Naomi was trying her best to get a rise out of Naori, everything necessary to motivate a genuine hit out of him and get their plan in motion—she never meant any of those words, intended to apologize after all was said and done, though she doubted it would matter once they got what they sought after.

But it was almost comical how it happened, how he miscalculated his steps, how far his hand had to travel to hit Naomi, and how he ended up doing far more than necessary: but convincingly so, in the end. Tripping over her and sending the two tumbling down, loudly hitting the ground in such a motion that had them scraping their skin, and of course, tears following suit.

“Maaaaaaa, I want my mamaaaaa.” Naomi intuitively cried, tightly holding onto the teacher as the two were sent to the infirmary.

Naori didn’t cry much for his father, he rarely did considering his prominent absence, but just one look at his teary face and trembling lip, and it was obvious whom he sought for comfort—the same one the school somehow convinced to come along and deal with this unfortunate incident.

As well as the supposed altercation that made way for all this to happen in the first place.

“No, what do you mean a fight??” You’re the first to arrive, demanding a believable explanation from the teacher. “That’s not—that doesn’t sound like my daughter!”

“I know, I thought the same… but that’s what the kids are saying.” She explains. “That Naomi-chan was inciting Naori-kun to punch her, and that she was even saying awful things to get him to do that. I don’t know what they were doing, if they were playing a game or… I don’t know; all of it is so weird—I’m sorry.”

You sigh.

“It’s fine. There’s no need to stress when it’s already happened.” You explain. “Is the parent of the child here already?”

“Should be soon, but I don’t know if he’s actually coming, Naori’s dad isn’t quite… present.”

You frown at the name.

“Naori? Wasn’t he Naomi’s best friend?”

She nods.

“It just makes everything even more unbelievable… really, what’s gotten to them?”

You hope to figure such when speaking to the poor child your daughter allegedly antagonized, after apologizing for such behavior of course. Which you’d have to deal with after returning home—Naomi… seriously, what could’ve possibly gone through her mind to incite such act? Was she being bullied? Did Naori suddenly decide he no longer wanted to be friends with her?

And why did his name appear to be so… familiar?

You’d figure it out soon enough when entering the infirmary, quickly scanning across the room for your daughter—only to freeze upon locking into Naoya’s; a much smaller, softer version of them, that is.

“Mamaaaaa!!” Naomi quickly cries when seeing you walk past the door, rushing to your side and hugging you tightly, the adrenaline of the whole succession still vivid in her mind. “Mama, it—it hurts a lot!”

Comforting her ought to be your utmost priority, but at the sight of your estranged child, the baby you were forcibly stripped away from… you couldn’t think of anything else but pinching yourself to see if this was a dream—if he was truly there, before you: flesh and bone. After so many years of distance…!

And naturally, hug him. Keep him so, so close to you and never let go; to make up for all the time you’ve spent apart and the things you never got to do because of his undeserving, cruel father…

Who stomped past the door soon after, equally freezing when seeing his estranged child, and ex-wife after 5 years of imposed silence. Startled, as if he hadn’t been the deciding factor behind it all.

Or perhaps, the reason why Naori enrolled in this school in the first place.

“Y/N.”

“Naoya.”

Looks like there’s much to catch up to.

Obviously, part 2 is needed. Essentially where Naoya will disclose more of what the hell was going on in his mind when pulling that stunt, as well as some angst. I have to. hahaha

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little thing I wrote; I do love it when we indulge into domestic au... but not at the expense of the kids 😭😭😭 think of the children!!! lol.

Well, 0nce again, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Now take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[lynnsenpai]

So I was always kinda curious about this. Since Rain did eventually make public and chroncile her life as a trans woman online, I always wanted to know how Rain's former classmates outside of the Gay Table (Rain's close circle) reacted to the reveal that she's trans. Like, with Drew I can kinda guess how he reacted, probably initial surprise and then saying "I'm kinda used to this already."

Like Holly would be a fun one to imagine. Devon I don't know. Rob's reaction would be very interesting, he did have a crush on her at one point. The Vintage siblings (Madison and Aidyn) I'd kinda wanna know. Oh yeah, and Randy.

Just curious is all

I have a very clear image in my head of Debbie laughing out of pride because she totally called it... and then feeling kinda guilty about how she treated Rain back then. That said, she's still one of Emily's best friends, so Debbie may actually get a chance to apologize. I don't imagine her and Rain being particularly tight, but at least the bad blood can be cleared out. But she totally called it! Holly tries to correct Rain through the screen, "Emily is pantssexual. And you're trantsgender. Yeesh, learn the termilogimy!" Devon, it turns out, has a trans family member. Watching Rain's videos helps him adapt to this. Upon realizing Rain is trans, Rob has a massive crisis about what that means for his past feelings for her. Drew is quick to snark at him about how familiar this feels, but rather than continuing to tease, he assures Rob that this doesn't change anything. Rain was a girl then, and she's a girl now, so Rob is (likely) straight. Aidyn and Madison never really knew Rain that well, so while it's surprising, it doesn't change much for them. But once Aidyn gets to the prom night episode, he learns the truth about Ryan recontextualizing that whole night, years and years later. Aidyn feels bad about his behavior, and Madison never ever ever lets him live it down that he thought Ryan was cheating on him with Gavin. Randy makes a quiet nod of approval.

[fishysaltine]

Honestly I’ve always seen Bloodbath (or the kill Zara quest) as Illario’s final desperate attempt to be swayed form his plan. It kind of reminds me of Solas and Varric’s note of him in the beginning of the game “he just needs someone to give him a different option”

Like Illario is genuinely upset about this whole thing. He thought Lucanis was dead, and we see that he was such a chronically depressed alcoholic yapper after Lucanis’ death that even though he did give the hit, he at least regretted it or it didn’t sit well with him. (I have no doubt Zara manipulated him to some extent into it, since she has her eyes on Lucanis after the Wigmaker job anyway, but neither Zara or Illario are actually explored in game). But when Illario is taking us to the boat, he makes note of saying Catarina didn’t tell him because “I would have tried to save him.” The way he says that line is in a COMPLETELY different tone than anything else he says. It’s stern and to the point, not condescending like after Illario takes out Zara and talks down on Lucanis, telling him he��s a danger and liability.

If Illario knew Lucanis was actually alive, he probably would have killed Zara earlier. And Zara obviously KNEW THIS because she didn’t tell Illario Lucanis was ALIVE for that very reason. Illario never knew about Spite. He never planned for the Ossuary. He never meant for that to happen! Zara knew that whatever Illario and she had going on would never even be close to the bond Lucanis and Illario have, and Illario would put that over power every single time.

Almost every single time.

Because he knows what he did, and he still goes out for coffee with Lucanis and the weirdo rando that saved him. And then he tries to convince Lucanis to stay away from Zara, because he knows that Zara is capable of and how not only she can, but has hurt Lucanis. (She turned his big brother into an abomination!)

WAIT A MINUTE WHO ELSE DOES THAT? Lucanis does! Except Lucanis is more direct about it. Says that Zara might come after him. Illario tries to convince Lucanis she’s in fuckass land, get him out of the situation ENTIRELY involving Antiva, the Anntam, First Talon. Yeah, there’s probably a selfish motivation, but in Wigmaker Illario is so fucking scared Lucanis is going to essentially fling himself off a cliff, there’s a genuine “heyy can you take a holiday? Can you stop being passively suicidal for me, your little cousin? Can we stop with the ‘death is my calling’ shit?”

Of course Illario can’t just go “uhh I’ll take care of it dw bro” because to Lucanis the beef with Illario and Zara isn’t merely as personal as he (and Spites) beef with her. They really just want to protect one another and get their dues.

Illario killing Zara wasn’t so much for him. I mean she kind of played him, but whatever, it didn’t necessarily affect Illario in anyway, it was for Lucanis. A way to try and appease the guilt of something that he never intended to happen to his older brother. That’s why Illario wants to be there during Bloodbath. “It’s Crow business” aka ‘WHY ARE YOU TAKING WEIRDO RANDO 1 & 2 OVER ME? I deserve to be at your side, I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth and back, why won’t you let me anymore?’

So Illario meets Lucanis and his rando friends on the rooftop. Lucanis asks him what he’s doing there- and Illario says he wants to go. He’s so desperate to go, to prove his alliance to his big brother cousin. But that’s not all. Lucanis has been gone for a year, and then left immediately. Killing and missions, being Crow’s is one of the main ways Lucanis and Illario bond.

Illario has never felt good enough. For his grandmother, for Lucanis, for anyone. That’s why he started this mess. Zara tells him Lucanis doesn’t think he’s good enough, he never will be, until he does the most Crow thing ever and cuts him out of the family line. Then finally, maybe, when his cousin’s eyes are glassy and corpse empty, will they be filled with approval.

But Lucanis is right here (with two randos)! And Illario asks him to involve him, just looking for that smidge of approval. And Lucanis says no. Ok. Cool! Maybe he just wants you safe. Fine, whatever. But you’re capable- at least you think you are.

So you ask the damning question. “You think I’m not good enough?”

And your cousin, your big brother, simply says: “Are you?”

While surely a good natured jab from Lucanis as siblings do, had Lucanis’ answer been anything even close to praise or more concern, I think Illario would’ve been fine to step out of the way. ALL he needed was Lucanis’ mild assurance/approval. Just a ‘oh no, you’re good enough. I just don’t want you getting hurt is all’

But he doesn’t say that. He simply feeds into the very insecurity that sent Illario to selling him out, the very one that Zara told him but he never quite believed until the words came from Lucanis’ mouth. ‘You’re not good enough to stand by my side anymore.’ And potentially ‘I’ve replaced you with rando 1 & 2, I don’t need you anymore’

So then he doubles down. No more playing nice cousin or big brother little brother. If Lucanis doesn’t want Illario by his side anymore- fuck it, Illario doesn’t need him. Lucanis saying Illario isn’t good enough isn’t just a blow to his ego, or self confidence/self esteem, it’s a flat out rejection. So he takes the kill from Lucanis, and essentially tells him to get the fuck out of dodge or else, and then tries to strong arm first Talon.

Lucanis never quite gives Illario “the different option.” Illario throws their bond away not because he necessarily wants to, but because he thinks Lucanis’ threw it away first, and that he’s just folding onto a frayed rope (not even mentioning how Illario crosses out Lucanis’ name in the family line, showing how he just… almost doesn’t exist. He’s gone to Illario. Illario’s so hurt by everything he just wants Lucanis gone at this point, come hell or high water.)

Lucanis quite literally says that the only way Catarina would be proud of Illario is if he kills her, and if that extends to Lucanis, so be it.

[aihoshiino]

I know I'm swinging a bat into a hornet's nest, but ever since the end of OnK I've been thinking about why Akane is so popular yet so disappointing as a character.

Akane was really interesting and I enjoyed her being her own character, but after the stage play arc she just becomes an Aqua simp. All her motivations become centered around him to the point of wanting to ruin her life for a boy. She becomes a "submissive Japanese wife" that so many people are obsessed about, completely ignoring that her and Aqua's dynamic would be horrible for both of them. They enable each other's self-destructive tendencies, trying to go to hell instead of climbing out of it.

I hate what they did with Akane at the end. She becomes nothing more than a plot device, and to have her narrate the ending which overshadows every other character (especially Ruby, she deserved so much more) is such a bad move. Justice for Akane, she's a much better character than an exposition mouthpiece for the reader's sake. We don't even get to see her actually analyze any information (aside from researching Ai at the start), she just suddenly has all the answers even in moments where it has almost nothing to do with her. I'm so annoyed at how Akane-centric the ending is, truly putting her characterization into the ground alongside Aqua.

I think the issue re: Akane is that Akasaka kind of accidentally wrote himself into a corner by making her SO smart and capable that if she was allowed to actually contribute to the story then she would end up solving most conflicts before they actually played out on the page lol

Like, to be totally fair, there was always going to be an element of Akane orbiting Aqua because she's very specifically a character not involved in Ruby's half of the plot and with zero interest in B-Komachi. So it makes sense for her to take a bit of a backseat when we switch focus to it but Tokyo Blade going into the Private arc is really good example of how she can still be a present and engaging character even without directly contributing just by letting her... you know, engage and be present with the rest of the cast! But starting with Mainstay, Akane has basically zero meaningful interactions with anyone who isn't Aqua and most of what she does on-page also revolves around him and their relationship. I'm not even really sure why this is because there are certainly places she could've at least been inserted to flesh out her relationships with the wider cast but my best guess is that this would have interrupted or complicated what Akasaka wanted to do so he didn't include her. And Don't Even Get Me Started On The Movie Arc.

There's more issues with how Akasaka uses her as a character but u/uvauva2 on the OnK subreddit did a really good and concise breakdown of them and I'd basically just be recapping their points if I carried on, so I recommend reading it.

It sucks because I've really come around on Akane and I think she's super compelling up through to the end of the Private arc. But past that, it feels like Akasaka had no idea what to do with her as a character so he turned to using her as a blunt force tool of convenience to paper over sections of the plot. She ends up kind of reduced to a mouthpiece for Akasaka to do exposition with and... Yeah, it sucks! Akane was a character with a lot of really interesting potential but it just feels like Akasaka lost interest in fitting her into the story at some point.

[swordmaid]

anyway shri’iia’s epilogue outfit which is a mix of 1900s male stage costumes and also that one camp outfit mod. look at the ring hehe 🤭

[lovinnelily]

Y'all do know you can't make Jason be NOT white without changing his whole character, right?

For other characters, yes, because their physical appearance are not that influential in their story, on how they are viewed by people, on their personality formation — you can have a black/asian/indigenous/arab/brown/latino/etc Nico and yes, the hate he gets will have a undertone of racism but at the same time nothing significant on his story, motivation or personality will need to change. This is also true for other characters: Clarisse risks repeating the "aggressive WoC" stereotype but the character itself doesn't change.

This isn't true for Jason, whose main character trait is how he is perceived by others and how he showcases himself to others based on that perception. (specially with how little effort Riordan put on him besides making him perfect-er Percy who's somehow also weaker and less important than him).

Let's not pretend a black, Arab, indigenous, Asian, Latin man, etc, in the USA would ever be treated with the universal reverence Jason gets from New Roma, you can't have the illusion of perfection and most of all, of invincibility they have about him when you see him suffering racism or xenophobia in the middle of a mission. In theory, nothing in his life has ever gone wrong, that's his image, destined to be king, he is supposed to have no weakness on his peers eyes.

He is not trying to prove people wrong, he is trying to prove them right; he isn't worthy despite their prejudice, on the contrary, he only tried to make himself worthy to fulfill their expectations. He can't be a woman or an immigrant or have a visible disability or any other thing that strays him from a perfect ideal by western society standards, and be that same character.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

also, about carmillas control of her vampirism, while it's hot to think about, i dont think fangs actually come out during sex. like in the s3 scenes where shes actually still a vampire that we dont get to see but i dont think that happens

based on my inferences that the losing control of the vampirism happens mostly bc of anger/threat and it basically never happens atlaura and i think one of her worst fears is hurting laura, i think during sex is the least likely time for any loss of control like that

+ theres the fact that laura is the bitey one during sex, even with human teeth

[victorluvsalice]

-->While Smiler was bopping away, Victor had finished his upgrading, so I had him transportalate down to the greenhouse, change into more appropriate clothes, and start tending all the plants (a process made a little bit harder today by his bees being angry about life and stinging him occasionally). Alice, meanwhile, was stopped from going out to shower in the rain (Erratic Sims…) and forced to finish her breakfast and take a quick wolf nap to calm her instincts before I sent her out to feed Toothy the cowplant and the poor starving chickens. Fortunately going out in the thunderstorm didn’t make her scared (one of the few perks of a Sim being Erratic) – though it did break her umbrella, so that wasn’t great. Despite this, though, she got everybody fed, cleaned out the coop, and got all five eggs waiting in said coop without incident. Feeling both proud of her for staying on task and bad that I'd made her work in the rain, I then directed her to head inside and up to her and Victor’s bedroom, before having her change into her outfit with the Delicate “bad mood calming” bracelet and start working on her latest book again (the mystery “Who Stole The Tarts?” in case you need a reminder – I did!). She plugged away at that for a bit while I checked in on Victor – he’d finished all his tending, so I decided to have him super-sell his garden –

After he’d bonded with his bees to stop them being so angry. And after he’d evolved his taro root. And after he’d gathered soy wax off his soy plant. And after he’d gotten a pee – which involved him magically fixing the downstairs toilet because at some point it broke (I think the moment he tried to sit down on it, in fact). And after he’d given Surprise a lecture on scratching the furniture. I’m saying it took a WHILE to get to super-selling all that produce. XD But he did get there eventually, poor guy!

-->And then I looked at Alice again and noticed her Fury was getting really high because, despite her bracelet’s best efforts, her “gotta be outside” werewolf instincts were giving her lip. I quickly sent her out into the backyard (fortunately the rain had calmed down to a drizzle at this point, AND her umbrella was back in good repair) and had her somber howl to lower her Fury – then, deciding I wanted to be extra safe on a party day, sent her back up to the séance room to meditate the rest of it away. Smiler, meanwhile, was finally allowed to stop dancing for the camera (I’d left them like that for a while because, uh, it was just easier ^^;) and upload the video to their production station so they could start editing it and adding effects and transitions and all that jazz. Victor, for his part, finished his super-selling at last – I immediately made him Repairio the wind farm (those things break SOOO MUCH) and smash up a twisted tendril growing outside Moory’s pen before having him harvest the prairie grass in said pen. XD No rest for the wicked – or the magical! Though he got a pretty good harvest out of the prairie grass – not only did he bundle up plenty of hay, he also found a bottle of potato nectar – and a bottle of VITALITY nectar. AKA the nectar that can deage Sims and bring ghosts back to life. O.o So yeah, that right there? That is the GOOD stuff. Have to remember to get him to store it in the aging racks later!

-->Anyway – while Victor was getting that done, Smiler uploaded and hyped their finished video (just in time for it to be included in the royalty money for the day, nice), then ran downstairs to lecture Shock for scratching furniture and drinking from puddles. I couldn’t get a good picture of either as Shock kept running away from Smiler to do something else as they tried to lecture her (like going to drink from puddle in the bathroom while Smiler was trying to tell her no scratching the living room chairs), but the lessons DID take, and Shock has learned not to do either thing anymore. Hooray! I then had Smiler mop up all the puddles around the place and take a quick shower as I checked in on Alice – to my delight, she was completely Fury-less! Yay! :D And even better, I quickly discovered an activity to keep her busy while I tried to wrangle Smiler and Victor (Smiler, finished with their shower, was trying to mold the clay blob in the bathroom from last episode while Victor wanted to chat with them) – the laundry! The hamper was starting to look a biiit full, so I had her search everyone’s pockets, then load up the washer with the clothes and a chrysanthemum and set them tumbling. Victor and Smiler had headed back up to Smiler’s room to dance to the tunes coming out of their radio at this point, so I just had Alice head up and join them for a little dance party –

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

If your HOF/Hawke/Inky couldn't romance their usual partners, who would they choose instead?

Oof, this is a hard one.

Tabris/Alistair, Hawke/Anders, and Lavellan/Cullen are such an integral part of my canon run that I can't imagine them romancing anyone else. Like, it feels wrong to imagine them not ending up with their respective partners.

But, for the sake of discussion, I'll do my best to answer.

Rose is probably the hardest one because she and Alistair, and their romance, are so intertwined with everything that happens in DAO that I feel like she'd remain single if he wasn't an option, y'know? Her other options are Leliana and Zevran, and I can't see her going with either of them.

Leliana's sweet and Rose likes her a lot, but she's a little too into the Chantry. That's something I see Rose having a problem with; she's not exactly shy about telling off the mothers, sisters, and templars, or pointing out how they mistreat elves and mages.

Rose and Zevran are friends but I've never viewed him as an option for her; after everything Rose goes through in her origin, his openly sexual nature is just a major turn off for her. He calls her a sex goddess in their first conversation and that's just not it. They don't even start to become friends until after she tells him to stop looking at her that way and he respects her wishes.

Plus, Leliana and Zevran lack the shared experiences of being a warden, Ostagar, having to deal with the blight from the very beginning. That's something only Rose and Alistair have and that's what separates him from the others as a love interest... so yeah, Rose would be single, me thinks.

As for my Hawke, Ed's gay so if he can't be with Anders, his only other option is Fenris. I've romanced him before and enjoyed it, so I think he and Ed could work out... though again, it's a similar problem I have where Ed's relationship with Anders is so crucial because Anders saved Carver's life in the deep roads... y'know, Ed's brother who he cherishes above all else. Kind of a big deal. A huge factor in bringing them together.

Ed and Fenris always worked better as friends but out of everyone, Ed's the one I could actually imagine with someone else.

Finally, there's my Lavellan... once again, Ash ending up with Cullen is a huge deal for the narrative of DAI. I've talked about this before, but how I play DAI is my Lavellan is actually Surana from DAO. She and Cullen knew each other and maaaaaybe had a thing... but because Duncan didn't show up, she escaped the circle with Jowan. After he died, Ash joined the dalish, changed her name, and ended up at the conclave... where she and Cullen reunited and proceeded to have hardcore ex vibes the entire time they're at Haven.

If they decided that they're never getting back together, I think Ash might've ended up with either Josephine or Solas. She views Sera as more of a little sister and a friend. She likes Blackwall but he's not her type. The Iron Bull romance progression doesn't suit her even though she admires his intelligence and strength, she's just not up for a friends with benefits turned romantic relationship.

Ash always craved knowledge, and when she was in the circle, she knew the game that she needed to play in order to survive and come out on top... her pride and inability to see when she's wrong led to her downfall with Jowan. She needs someone who she can challenge and who challenges her, both without backing down, on a variety of topics; she needs an academic, I guess?? But she also needs someone who isn't afraid to humble her. Cullen, Josephine, and Solas all fit this in different ways.

I'm more inclined to push her toward Josephine though... I don't think she would've handled the Solas break up well at all.